Don't Blink
by Kool Killer
Summary: The Secure Contain Protect Foundation guards some of the most crazy creatures, objects and people known to man. You are apart of a top secret Mobile Task Force that it trained to handle situations others couldn't even imagine. Your lucky streak takes a turn for the worse when SCP site 19 has a containment breach that could jeopardize life as we know it.
1. Chapter 1

Don't Blink

By Kool Killer

One week before the cataclysm at site 19

Name: Hale Blight

Race: Caucasian, White

Gender: Male

Age: 24

Height: 6ft, 1in

Weight: 205 lbs.

Eyes: Light Green

Hair: Golden Brown

Citizenship: United States of America

Marks, Scars, Tattoos: None

Criminal History: 2 counts of Telecommunications tampering in the first degree. Resulting in the loss of sensitive materials to national security. Felony Charges were pressed but later expunged at the request of (REDACTED)

Unit ID: Mobile Task Force, Nine Tailed Fox, E-11

Designation: Communications and Video Surveillance Specialist

Distance from Site 19: 582 miles

Current location: West Richland, WA

Hale Blight was in route to meet up with NTF members at a party that was set up for them by the Secure Contain Protect Foundation for an astounding 200 days accident free in the workplace. Only people that were affiliated with the foundation could attend. The last containment breach was pretty bad; a lot of good people didn't pull through. SCPF paid very handsomely for the work but it could cost your wellbeing. Simple question, would you risk your life for a grotesque amount of money? For most members the answer was YES, It was a part of the risk you took working for these guys. Plus when you make almost a million dollars a year untaxed with the best health care you can get, it's kind of hard to resist. Whenever there was an "accident" in the foundation, it meant that somebody didn't follow procedure and died. Then the MTF would be sent in to clean up and recapture or terminate any SCP's that had gotten loose. Class-D's were normally used for the most dangerous SCP operations as far as testing and the like. The life expectancy of a Class-D was less than five days. So of course the accident free days didn't retain to the Disposable personal. Class D's always got fucked up by the SCP's. But since all Class D personal were volunteers from death row, their mishaps never counted nor were they missed. Hale was very fortunate all things considered. If it wasn't for special interests in the SCPF that wanted his expertise, he'd be wearing an orange uniform instead of a black and brown one.

Hale pulled up to an unmarked building and parked in the parking lot. He exited his dark green Isuzu Trooper and closed the door. It was dusk out and the overhead parking lot lights were on, obscuring his face in shadows. Hale zipped up his brown jacket and tucked his M&P 40 Shield light handgun into his concealable holster in his black slacks. Hale started to walk up to the front entrance of the building. Many cameras lined the rooftop of the grey three story building. Two guards greeted him at the front door.

"Good after noon sir, I need to see your SCPF credentials and state ID," The guard on the left held his hand out. Hale produced his credentials and handed them to the guard. Hale looked over at the other guard. He was holding his right hand to his side suggestively; no doubt he had some kind of SMG hidden in his coat. The guard on the left carefully looked over Hale's credentials and handed them back.

"Please enjoy yourself Specialist Blight," Hale nodded. Both the guards opened the doors and stood aside. Hale walked into the grey building and proceeded to the second security check point. The walls had warning signs prohibiting recording devices and phones of any kind. Hale kept moving until he came to the next checkpoint. The guards at this checkpoint were more relaxed. The guard closest to Hale smiled and spoke from behind his desk.

"Hello there, If you have any electric devices please hand them over before proceeding past the EMP Gate," The guard pulled out a yellow folder and opened the top. Hale removed his phone from his pocket and his firearm. "Sir you can keep your firearm, I just need electronics," Hale holstered his pistol and handed his phone over. The guard slipped his phone into the folder and closed the top. "What's your name sir?"

"Hale Blight," The guard wrote the name on the folder and stored it in a cabinet that was behind his desk. "Go ahead and walk through," Hale walked through the gate. The hairs on his neck stood up and a heat flash passed through him. Probably going to get cancer in the next ten years, Hale thought. He continued to walk down the long hall until he came to a set of wooden doors. He opened them and walked on in. The room was pretty big. Tables with food and drinks were off to the side. The walls were decorated with the company logo and the lights in the room were dimmed to give a more relaxing feel. A cheer came from a table on the left; Hale looked over and spotted his squad mates. He walked over to them.

"Hey guys," Hale smirked.

"The point Dexter has arrived!" Sergeant Macaulay grabbed a chair and slid it over to Hale. Hale chuckled and sat down. "Alright we got a problem here," Macaulay looked accusingly at Hale. Hale shrugged. Macaulay grabbed a beer and popped the top off. "Here you go, that's about right," Hale and Macaulay tapped their bottles together in a toast. Hale glanced around the table, everyone was here. Brant Baston, Jarvis Requis, Dustin Haugh, Devin Kints and Jim Macaulay.

Brant specialized in Explosive Ordinance Disposal. Brant was more reserved and quiet. He wasn't a pussy by any means, he just didn't like confrontation. He was probably one of the nicest people you'd meet, until you started shooting at him or made a loud startling noise. His pale blue eyes complimented his charismatic abilities. It was damn near impossible to hate the guy.

Jarvis was the only African American in the squad. He was very outspoken. If you did something he didn't like, you'd hear about it. He specialized in heavy weapons and guided munitions systems. He was also pretty renowned in basic for one hit knock outs during close quarters combat training. Most of all he was a team player. His squad was his family, you messed with them he'd wreck shop.

Dustin was the squad medic. He had studied at a medical university for four years. He was a registered nurse for a while making bank, but the job was boring and very tedious. So he joined the MTF and excelled at his work and was place in the NTF unit. He had a touch that was special, and he could calm anyone in distress. Wounds that should be fatal would be minor after he patched it up.

Devin could hit a nickel from a half mile away. He was probably one of the best marksmen NTF had ever seen. His reaction time was unfathomably quick. It almost seemed like he could slow time down. If there ever was a quick scoper, it was him. Devin could also read people like a book, if he could see your eyes; he could read your intentions.

Jim Macaulay was the sergeant and jokester of the squad. He had a keen ability to make light of just about any situation, life threating or not. His leader ship skills were very strong and he had a profound way of getting the job done quickly. If he said the job would take ten minutes, then it was taking ten minutes. He was so good at what he did; you never wanted to disappoint him.

"Hale…YO HALE," Jarvis snapped his fingers.

"Huh?" Hale looked up.

"You had one beer man, and you're already smashed?" Jarvis chuckled. Hale smiled and threw back some more of the ice cold brew.

"Not even close," Hale responded.

"You better live it up my man, we only got three more days until we rotate back in, and it is going to blow," Jarvis killed his beer off and snagged another one.

"Yeah, it'll be boring, but I'm going to be looking forward to the sixty thousand dollar pay checks plus six thousand in hazard pay, sixty six thousand a month," Hale replied with a big shit eating grin on his face.

"I heard that, then we'll just have to put up with those creepy ass SCP's for three months, and we rotate back out," Jarvis chuckled.

"Just like clockwork," Devin nodded. The six buddies continued conversing and drinking. Although they were trying to get their mind off site 19, doubt was still lingering. They just couldn't shake the feeling that something was off…

Authors note: **So I just recently played SCP Containment Breach and I like it a lot. For a free game it is one of the best. The monsters are creepy, the atmosphere is bleak and the gameplay is spot on. So I am going to try to make this story work. If I don't get everything right at first don't feed me to SCP-682 alright?**


	2. Chapter 2

Don't Blink

By Kool Killer

Distance from Site 19: 578 Miles

Current Location: West Richland, WA

Three days later…

Hale and the NTF Epsilon-11 squad were waiting at the staging area, ready to relive MTF squad Gamma-12 who were inbound via helicopter. A couple other squads were standing around guarding death row prisoners that voluntarily agreed to work for the SCP foundation in exchange for their freedom at the end of a month's testing. The prisoners were wearing orange jump suits and were shackled together in pairs, there were fourteen of them. Poor bastards had no idea what was in store for them. One of the inmates looked over at Hale. Hale looked back at him. The inmate was young. The kid had sandy blond hair and bright blue eyes; he didn't look like a killer, nothing close to the guys he was bunched together with. But usually the most fucked up individuals were the ones nobody would suspect. Hale looked over at his sergeant who was pacing around, glancing at his watch. Everyone else was checking their gear over, trying to kill the time. Macaulay looked at his watch and tapped it.

"Gamma twelve is 30 minutes late," Macaulay lowered his hand and adjusted the collar of his black Kevlar vest.

"You want me to raise them Sarge?" Hale placed his left gloved hand on the radio head set connected to his Modular Integrated Communications Helmet. Macaulay shook his head. "Nine Tailed Fox to Gamma twelve," Hale paused, waiting for a response. A couple seconds later and he got a response.

"Gamma twelve to Nine Tailed Fox, sorry for the delay, we had problems opening the overhead hanger doors in site nineteen's vehicle bay, we'll be at your location in five mikes, over," The pilot replied.

"Copy copy," Hale held his hand up with his fingers and thumb extended signaling a five minute waiting period. Macaulay nodded. Hale moved over to Jarvis and sat down on the ammo crate across from him.

"You got any smokes?" Hale held two fingers up to his lips.

"I got you man," Jarvis busted out a pack and held out a cigarette. Hale took it appreciatively. Hale searched his pockets for a lighter but he couldn't find it.

"Forgot my smokes and my light," Hale twirled the cigarette.

"How are you making fuck boy mistakes," Javis smiled and held out his lighter that was lit. Hale chuckled, leaned forward and cupped his hands over the lighter as he lit his cigarette.

"Jarvis, go tip your fedora somewhere else," Hale inhaled his cancer stick.

"You get any edger and you might cut yourself Blight," Devin moved over to Hale and Jarvis. Jarvis offered a cig to Devin who refused it. "That stuff will kill you, it's very bad for the lungs," Devin leaned back from the cigarette like it was the black plague.

"Not according to Marlboro man, he smoked a pack a day" Hale joked.

"How did that work out for him," Devin narrowed his eyes at Hale, smirking.

"Well, he got emphysema and died in his forties," Hale replied.

"Exactly," Devin sat next to Hale. Brant and Dustin moved over to the trio and began shooting the breeze. Soon the sound of a helicopter could be heard in the distance. Sergeant Macaulay called over to the five NTF soldiers.

"Have you two ever considered being on the safety committee?" He Glared over at Hale and Jarvis.

"No, why would we?" Jarvis asked.

"Because you two shit birds are smoking right on top of live ordinance," Macaulay gestured over at the ammo crates Hale and Jarvis were sitting on. Hale and Jarvis did a double take and noticed the explosive warning symbol on the crates they were sitting on. They both made a oh shit face and hopped off them. "Yeah," Macaulay boosted.

Gamma-12's helicopter came into view and began to descend. The helicopter was a large heavily armored pave low. These types of helicopters could shrug off RPG hits and easily fit thirty to forty men. But the amount of fuel they guzzled was absolutely retarded, not that the SCPF was hard up for cash or anything. The pave low landed and the back loading ramp lowered. Gamma-12 off loaded and greeted NTF and the other MTF units with words like, "nice to see you, have a good one, don't do anything I wouldn't do, don't eat the fucking chicken casserole you'll shit yourself to death". They all looked tired and strung out, but who could blame them. Spending three months underground with some of the most dangerous SCP's known to man can really wear on you.

All the prisoners had black hoods placed over their heads and were marched onto the pave low. Nine Tailed Fox boarded next with the remaining MTF units. The ramp to the pave low closed. Hale glanced around inside the helicopter. This pave low didn't have windows to keep those who rode it from finding out site 19's location. Only the pilots and higher ups knew the location of site 19. The door to the cockpit was heavily armored. There was a small rectangular window with tinted bullet proof glass that you could look out from inside the cockpit to see out into the seating area but you couldn't see in. There were red lights lining the walls of the helicopter giving off creepy lighting. Everyone's eyes were black due to the red lights. The helicopter was damn near sound proof. You could barely hear the engine and the sound of the propellers. The pilot activated the internal coms.

"We are cleared for takeoff, next stop, site one niner, two hours max," The pilot then put on some music. Artist, Sonic Mayhem, Song, Quad Machine. The pave low took off and soared up through the air. Hale's stomach sank into his boots. The pilot took off fast as hell.

The flight to site 19 was pretty quick. Halfway there the pilot had asked if anyone had any requests for songs. One of the prisoners had asked for the song, what is a juggalo. The pilot had responded with these exact words," I said pick a song, not a pile of steaming shit," Everyone laughed, except for the one who made the request.

The pave low arrived at the hanger bay for site 19. The overhead doors to the hanger bay began to open, then they stopped and closed shut again. The pilot sounded pissed.

"WOW, when the actual fuck are they going to get this bullshit fixed?" The pilot huffed.

The helicopter hovered for five minutes until the engineers inside the hanger got the overhead hanger doors to open properly. The pave low descended into the hanger and the hangers' ceiling doors closed. The helicopter landed and the pilot turned off the engine. The pave low's ramp lowered and made a metallic thud as it hit the concrete of the hanger floor. Everyone filed off the helicopter. The Inmates were taken to orientation. The remaining NTF and MTF agents reported to command for duty details. Once hale and his team got their assigned sectors they were given their rooms. Hale was rooming with Jarvis, Brant with Devin and Dustin with Macaulay. Hale, Jarvis and Dustin were on night shifts. The others had day shifts, which worked out for Dustin and Macaulay since they would get the room to themselves. After Hale and Jarvis got settled into their room they lounged around for a bit. Since it was 7pm their shifts would start in five hours.

"These twelve hour shifts are going to blow man," Jarvis said from the top bunk.

"Yeah, but eight hour days make the months drag on for 'ever'," Hale emphasized the word.

"True that," Jarvis stayed quiet for a while then smiled diabolically. "I think I'm going to get me some of that chicken casserole those Gamma boys were talking about,"

"Oh fuck no you're not," Hale said.

"You'd better get ready my man, I am going to be making some music with my ass tonight, Ima drop that bass," Jarvis laughed, Hale joined in. They both stopped laughing.

"We better go to the cafeteria before it closes though," Hale got up and headed to the stateroom door.

"Yea, I'm down," Jarvis jumped down from the top bunk. Hale opened the door and turned around.

"I'm serious about that damn casserole, you eat that garbage and your sleeping with the SCP's" Hale pointed at Jarvis. Jarvis snickered. They both exited the state room and left for the cafeteria. Soon the chicken casserole would be the last thing on their minds…


	3. Chapter 3

Don't Blink

By Kool Killer

Current location: SCP Site 19

Time until Containment Breach: 101hrs 10min 3sec

The cafeteria was mostly empty besides a few personnel here and there. The room was pretty spacious and lit brightly. Hale looked over to the serving counter. The cooks had left a while ago. The hot line was closed and only sandwiches could be seen from the cold case. There were some chip bags on the counter too, but they were not the good ones. Hale and Jarvis each grabbed a turkey sandwich and condiment packets. They moved over to a table towards the back of the cafeteria.

"You want a drink?" Hale asked.

"Yeah, get me sweet tea Bro," Jarvis replied. Hale nodded and approached SCP-294. SCP-294 was a Euclid class coffee vending machine that was capable of dispensing just about any liquid that was requested. Posted on the wall was a warning sign that read, **Ordering any kind of drink that is not fit for human consumption is strictly prohibited. Ignoring this warning may cause severe injury or death to the user.** In addition to the warning, two guards kept a watchful eye on the machine at all times. Only personal with a class 2 rating or higher were allowed to use the machine. The guards stopped Hale.

"I'm going to need to see your ID Badge and security rating," The guard on the left said. Hale gave the guard his credentials.

"Here you go," Hale looked the guards over. They wore white uniforms with black Tactical vests and riot helmets. They were armed with P-90 Sub Machine Guns that were favored by counter terrorism agencies around the world. The guard smiled.

"Nine Tailed Fox, specialist Blight, Level five security clearance, alright you're cleared to use SCP-294," The guard handed the credentials back. The guard on the right spoke up.

"Just don't go ordering anything prohibited, one idiot ordered a cup of four twenty, said it was, 'SOME BOMB ASS DANK', then proceeded to eat all the fucking Doritos and Funyens," The guard chuckled.

"That was agent Wyatt Townly right?" The left guard asked.

"More like special needs agent Wyatt Twerp, the idiot later got shit canned for violating the Drug policy and rode the short bus out of here," The other guard replied. Hale laughed.

"I make way too much money to mess up that bad, what a moron," Hale placed an order for two cups of sweet tea from SCP-294.

"That's for sure," The guards shook their heads. Hale laughed inwardly. He probably made 2 or 3 times as much as them. Hale took the cups of sweet tea.

"Take it easy guys," Hale headed back to Jarvis.

"You too," The guards called back.

Hale retuned to the table and sat down across from Jarvis.

"Here you go," Hale handed over one of the cups of sweet tea.

"MY MAN!" Jarvis said the words comically. Hale laughed and tore the plastic packaging off his sandwich. Hale put mayo and mustard on the turkey sandwich and took off the tomatoes.

"Why is it that they always put tomatoes on the sandwiches, it makes the bread all soggy, its gross," Hale closed the sandwich and started taking bites out of it.

"Bro, I don't even think you could call them tomatoes, look at this crap," Jarvis picked one of the tomatoes slices off of his sandwich and it fell apart. "Maybe I might still have time to get some of that chicken cas…" Hale stopped Jarvis.

"Shut the hell up Jarvis," Hale was upbeat and direct, "that stuff is Keter, you eat it and you'll be quarantined for a year, no joke," Hale drank some of the sweet tea. He made a sour face. "Did that fucking machine put a fifty pound bag of sugar in this damn cup!?" Hale slid the cup off to the side. Hale heard one of the guards call over from the deranged coffee machine.

"Yeah you have to be very specific, I sometimes think this thing knows what its doing, cleaver little shit," The guard glanced at the machine.

"This stuff is fine like wine," Jarvis downed the cup.

"And now, you're going to get diabetes," Hale continued to eat his sandwich.

Jarvis and Hale finished their food and exited the cafeteria.

"Let's gear up and meet up with Dustin, He is on the same detail as us right?" Hale asked.

"Don't know man, we'll suit up and find him," Jarvis and Hale headed to their room. Hale and Jarvis had reached their room in no time. They had greeted a couple of guards patrolling the halls. They both entered the state room and closed the door.

Hale moved over to his locker and opened it. The locker was bigger than normal. Hale's Tactical belt and leg holster dangled off a hook on the inside of his locker. He grabbed the belt and wrapped it around his waist. He then buckled it and secured his leg holster. Hale picked up his Springfield .45 XD handgun with green night sights with an underslung flashlight and placed it into his holster. Hale then grabbed his thick light brown long sleeve shirt and slipped it on over his black T shirt. Hale hadn't changed out of his black combat pants and his grey knee pads were still fastened tightly. Hale put on his black Nomex gloves and adjusted the Velcro. Next he grabbed his Kevlar vest and donned it. Hale adjusted the straps until the Kevlar vest fit snuggly. Hale checked all his equipment over. Everything appeared to be in order. Lastly, hale placed his MICH helmet on and fastened the chin strap. Hale closed his locker and sighed. He looked at his wristwatch, 4 hours left until shift change.

"Looking sharp man," Jarvis complemented, he had all his gear on too. Jarvis' loadout was somewhat different. He had the same uniform, but he had a heavy plate carrier vest with level 4 armor that was designed to stop armor piercing rounds. His weapon of choice, an AR-10 variant that shot the hard hitting seven point six two by fifty one millimeter round. You get hit by a round like that and you'll get knocked into next week.

"Thanks, you don't look bad yourself, let's move out," Hale replied. Hale and Jarvis left their room and began to head towards the light containment zone. Hale and Jarvis came across Dustin. He was waiting at the entrance to the light containment zone.

"Hey guys," Dustin sounded nervous. Hale and Jarvis stopped four feet from him.

"You alright?" Hale asked concerned.

"Yeah, it's just weird being back is all," Dustin rubbed the back of his neck.

"I feel you one hundred percent man, you're right to be cautious, we all know what's lurking behind these walls," Jarvis spoke up. Hale and Dustin shook their heads in acknowledgement. "But you won't have to worry about a thing Baby D, trust me," Jarvis smiled brightly and held his AR-10 up close to his chest. Dustin let out a breath he had been holding and chuckled lightly.

"Yeah, you're right," Dustin smiled.

"Are you on the same detail as us?" Hale asked.

"Yep, we are to temporally relive the guys guarding SPC-966," Dustin replied.

"Very good, let's not keep those Dream Stalkers waiting," Hale sighed. "Are we all ready to go?" Hale asked. Jarvis and Dustin nodded. "Well let's do it,"

Hale walked up to the doors leading to the light containment zone and swiped his level five access card through the card reader. An electronic chime was heard and the doors opened. The trio walked through the doors and the doors closed shortly after they had passed through. The electronic chime sounded again and the doors locked, a clunk was heard. The three NTF agents walked down the long and wide hallways heading to their posting. Different personnel were roaming about performing various tasks.

Hale, Jarvis and Dustin arrived at the secured containment area for SCP-966. Hale swiped his level five card to open the security room. The three NTF agents walked in and greeted the guards they were to relive. There were three of them.

"Your relieves have arrived," Hale smiled.

"Ah killer guys, you know your shift does not start until twenty four hundred hours right?" asked one of the guards sitting in the chair with his feet propped up on a desk.

"Yeah, but you guys look like you could use the rest," Hale gestured over to a table that was littered with coffee cups. The guards chuckled.

"Well thank you, Nine Tailed Fox for the win," The guards got up and prepared to leave.

"Is there anything we should know?" Dustin asked.

"The information on these SCP's is right here," One of the guards placed a clip board with files attached to it on the table. "Also, I'm sure you are aware that this is temporary, more replacements will be arriving at this facility in two days, so we will be working days and well, you guys nights, is there anything else you would like to know?"

"What are your names?" Hale asked.

"I'm Grant, this is Brice and this is Riley, will come early tomorrow and shoot the shit with you all," Grant said.

"We'd like that, Have a good night guys," Hale smiled.

"Cheers," Riley said, he and his friends left the security observation room.

Hale looked at the Plexiglass window leading to the secure room containing SCP-966. Hale didn't see them.

"Well I don't even see where they are at," Hale looked through the glass.

"It says here they are only visible under a certain spectrum of light," Dustin explained while he read the documents regarding SCP-966. Hale looked down at the control console. There were different commands, one of the switches said Ultra Violet. Hale flipped it and looked up. He was face to face with one of three Dream Stalkers.

"Jesus CHRIST!" Hale fell backwards and landed on his ass. Jarvis and Dustin were startled by his cry. Hale looked up into the black beady eyes of the Dream Stalker closest to the window. The Dream Stalker had grey rings around its iris's that expanded slightly as looked into the control room. It was standing tall on its hind legs, staring back at Hale intently. It opened its mouth slightly and tilted its head sideways curiously. Its mouth appeared to be in a permeant smile and its jaws were lined with sharp needle like teeth. Hale was mesmerized by this creature. He didn't exactly feel threatened by the Dream Stalker. But then again it was behind a foot of thick plexiglass.

"Hale are you hurt?" Dustin and Jarvis picked Hale up and inspected him.

"Hale my man, you good?" Jarvis shook him out of his trance.

"Huh, oh, yeah I'm good, but I think my heart just exploded inside my chest, that thing scared the fuck out of me," Hale exhaled and blinked a few times. Jarvis and Dustin let go of him. Hale walked up to the console, avoiding eye contact with the Dream Stalker. He then turned off the UV light, the SCP's disappeared. Hale sat down in one of the two chairs near the console and chuckled.

"Those things sure look freaky," Jarvis cleared all the paper cups off the table in the far corner of the room and placed his AR-10 down. Dustin joined Hale at the control console and sat in the seat across from him.

"This is going to be a long night," Dustin sighed.

"The one of many," Hale looked back into the containment room, wondering if the Dream Stalkers were still watching him…


	4. Chapter 4

Don't Blink

By Kool Killer

Current Location: SCP Site 19

Time until Containment Breach: 93hrs 27min 3sec

Hale, Jarvis and Dustin were setting around a table in the back of the SCP-966 control room playing Cards against humanity. Cards against humanity could quite possibly be the most offensive card game ever conceived. The objective of the game was to try and trump the other player with the most messed up card you have. Each player would have seven cards at all times. Everyone would take turns placing a black question card, which was to be answered with the regular cards. Whoever got the seven black question cards first would win.

Jarvis glanced at Hale and sneered while he looked at his cards. Jarvis had some really great cards, but so did Hale. Normally this game was not a game you would bet on, so the three NTF agents were wagering something else. Whoever lost would be the coffee bitch for the next two weeks. Dustin had already accumulated his seven cards, so now it came down to Jarvis and Hale. Jarvis chuckled and placed one of his white cards face down and slid it over to Dustin. Hale nodded and handed his card over too. Dustin reached down and picked up the cards. Dustin read them.

"Obama's presidency was held together with what?" Dustin chuckled. "Sweet nothings and good intentions, or, Crazy glue," Dustin paused, "I'm going with Sweet nothings and good intentions,"

"Damn my man, looks like you'll be getting me coffee soon," Jarvis only needed one more card.

"Yeah I'm going to put turbo lax in your coffee," Hale retorted. Jarvis laughed.

"Okay, this is it," Dustin pulled the last black card out and read it." Every sixty seconds in Africa, blank?" Dustin placed the card down. Jarvis did a snort laugh and placed his card down, Hale did the same. Dustin grabbed the cards and read them aloud.

"Every sixty seconds in Africa, a new disease is discovered, or, a minute passes," Dustin broke out in laughter and held up the, a new disease is discovered card.

"Okay fam, I want my coffee black with two sugar cubes, and a written apology from your mother on the cup, alright?" Jarvis gloated

"Well shit," Hale stood up and looked at Dustin. "How about you?"

"I'd like my coffee with sugar and cream, please," Dustin began to gather the cards and put them back in the box. On the way out Hale flipped Jarvis off. Jarvis chuckled and returned the gesture. Hale closed the door behind him and began his trek to the cafeteria. The halls were eerily quiet and more cold than usual. Drafts of warm air brushed across the back of Hale's neck.

"Huh!" Hale turned around quickly and the draft stopped. Hale backed up and looked around. Hale stood there for a long time with his hand on his holster. He thought it was his imagination getting to him but stood still just to be sure. Hale decided that it was nothing and continued towards the cafeteria. Along the way Hale checked over his shoulder continuously.

Hale made it to the cafeteria and walked on in. Hale quickly glanced around the cafeteria to see it empty, besides the two guards supervising SCP- 294. The guards waved at him, he returned the welcoming gesture. Hale moved over to one of the regular coffee machines and checked the coffee pot. Wouldn't you know it; some dick weed emptied the pot and didn't refill it.

"Wow" Hale began the process of making a fresh batch of coffee.

"Did you get coffee bitch duty?" One of the guards by the Euclid class coffee vending machine on the far side of the cafeteria asked. Hale laughed and replied.

"Yeah," Hale looked at the coffee machine; it would take a while to refill the pot so Hale decided to keep the two guards company. Hale walked over to the guards and they looked at him expectantly. "I don't believe I got your names," Hale sat down at one of the tables closest to them. The guards looked around the cafeteria. Seeing as there was nobody around they left their post and joined Hale at the table.

"I'm Ronald," The guard on the left offered as he took off his helmet and black balaclava.

"And I am Donald," The guard on the right said.

"Ronald Mc Donald," Hale beamed brightly.

"Oh my god, are you on with that McDonalds bullshit too?" Ronald asked kind of annoyed. Hale could tell that people had many laughs at their expense.

"It's really not that bad, we have two guys and their last names are Kints and Haugh," Hale paused, the guards leaned in, "We call them cunts and Haugh Haugh," Donald and Ronald laughed. Hale removed his helmet and placed it on the table. Hale eyed the two guards over. Ronald had red hair and green eyes, a ginger. Donald had brown eyes and black hair. They both looked pretty young, if Hale had to guess he would assume they were around the same age as him.

"What's your name?" Donald asked.

"I'm Hale Blight," Hale responded.

"Huh, well I guess you could say you're a blight on society," Donald joked, no one laughed. "Damn it," Donald sighed. Ronald patted him on the shoulder.

"Maybe one day Donald," Ronald removed his hand.

"So, what SCP's are you working with?" Donald inquired.

"Myself and five others are supervising SCP Nine Six Six," Hale looked back at the coffee machine, it was half full.

"And how are the Dream Killers?" Ronald cringed slightly.

"They are definitively creepy, they don't look too dangerous but neither does the Statue, SCP One Seven Three," Hale clasped his gloved hands together.

"Just make sure you don't fall asleep around them, even if the Dream Killers are not right next to you they can still screw with your mind," Donald explained. "The protocol used to be that only two people would take twelve hour shifts watching SCP Nine Six Six, everything was going smoothly for a while," Donald paused and leaned in, "Then one day the guard working the day shift went to relive the night guard and uh, he found him dead," Donald glanced around the cafeteria. Ronald nodded solemnly in agreement averting his eyes from Hale's questioning stare.

"And the weird thing was, the night guard had no marks on his body what so ever, they did an autopsy on the guy and they later found out that he was brain dead, the Dream Killers ate his fucking mind," Ronald shuttered. Hale felt his heart jump in his chest as Ronald's words sunk in.

"That's pretty fucked up," Hale exhaled nervously.

"Yeah, didn't mean to freak you out, but, we thought you should know," Ronald stated looking at Hale seriously. Hale looked back at the coffee pot, it was now full.

"Well I got to get back to my guys, I'll see you two later," Hale put his helmet on and got up. He began to walk towards the coffee machine. Hale fixed up three cups of coffee accordingly and began to leave. Hale stopped and called over to Ronald and Donald. "Hey if you guys catch the asshole that emptied the coffee pot without refilling it, shoot him in the dick, alright," Hale left the cafeteria. Donald snorted and hugged his P-90.

"I guess I got to shoot you in the dick now Ronald," Donald narrowed his eyes.

"Shut the fuck up Don," Ronald retorted.

Hale quickly paced through the halls heading towards his posting. Each step he took he felt as if something was going to grab him. He walked faster and faster until he broke out into a full sprint. His black combat boots collided against the floor grating feverously. Hale reached the security room for SCP-966 and used his card to open the door. Hale rushed in and closed the door.

"What took you so long, did you spank your monkey?" Jarvis joked. Hale quickly composed himself and turned around with a smirk.

"Yeah I pinched one off in your cup smart ass," Hale handed Jarvis his cup of coffee. Dustin was missing. Hale pointed to where Dustin was siting and looked questioningly at Jarvis.

"He's dropping the browns off at the super bowl," Jarvis drank some of his coffee. Hale chuckled and placed Dustin's cup of Joe down on the table. It had been awhile since Hale had checked up on the Dream Stalkers. Hale walked up to the console and flipped the UV light on as he took a sip of his coffee. All three Dream Stalkers had their faces pressed against the plexiglass window with their eyes glued to Hale. Hale spewed his coffee across the window in surprise. The Dream Stalkers must have been startled because they jumped back as if Hale had just spit out acid.

"Mother Fuckers," Hale gasped. Jarvis laughed so loudly you probably could have heard him from site 24.

"Oh they like you Hale, They probably want to give you the one knee salute," Jarvis burst out into laughter again. Hale lost the will to shit talk Jarvis. Hale grabbed a rag and wiped up the Folgers coffee off the window. An electronic beeping was heard from the control room door. A couple seconds later and Dustin walked through looking around curiously.

"I heard somebody laughing their ass off all the way from the bathrooms two sections away, what's up?" He looked at Jarvis who had the biggest smiled on his face Dustin had ever seen. It looked like Jarvis' cheeks were about ready to tear apart.

"Hale just lost his virginity to the Dream Stalkers," Jarvis broke out into laughter again, Dustin join in. Hale was not impressed. Hale huffed and turned off the UV lighting. The SCP's vanished.

"Jarvis I'm going to fucking kick your fucking ass," Hale glared at Jarvis. Jarvis made an O face.

"Are you salty right now bro?" Jarvis paused; Hale did not respond and sat down at the control console. Jarvis threw a salt packet at Hale. Hale let loose a stressed chuckle.

"After our shift, we are going to throw down," Hale smiled and nodded at Jarvis.

"Yeah I'm down, my little saltine," Jarvis heckled.

"Alright Uncle Ben, try not to burn the rice," Hale retorted, Jarvis snorted humorously and drank some more of his coffee. All three NTF agents' radios went off.

"All available MTF units and Security personnel are to do a security sweep throughout the Heavy containment zone, be on the lookout for an escaped class D personnel, designation 9341, subject was last seen via camera feed heading for gate D, use of lethal force is authorized," The coms went quiet. Hale, Jarvis and Dustin looked at each other.

"Okay, I'll stay here and monitor the camera feeds, you guys up to go bag a class D?" Hale asked.

"Already on it," Jarvis and Dustin left the security room in a hurry. The doors closed behind them. Hale sat down in the rolling chair and scooted up to the monitors. Hale switched through the different feeds until he saw the rouge class D. It was the young guy he had seen at the staging area. The class D looked like he knew where he was going, almost as if someone was guiding him.

"I got eyes on target, he's currently at gate D, it looks like he's trying to get the elevator to work," Hale heard multiple units acknowledged him. It didn't take long. Soon 9431 was in custody. Hale could see the guards and MTF agents roughing him up. One of the guard's wacked him over the head with a baton. The Class D went limp and was dragged away by the guards. He soon disappeared from the camera feed. Hale's radio went off, it was command.

"The Class D has been apprehended, all units stay alert and continue to perform security sweeps at this time, Check in at five minute intervals," Different units replied accordingly.

Hale sighed and leaned back in his chair. Just how the hell did the class D make it to Gate D? Hale questioned himself. Hale looked around quickly when he heard his name. The voice did not appear to come from anywhere in particular; it seemed to resonate inside his head.

"Who's that?" Hale glanced around the room, he didn't see anybody. Unbeknownst to Hale, the voice did not come from a person. Three hungry Dream Stalkers were very happy Hale's companions had left him. Now, they could begin to feed on his mind…


End file.
